Recollection
by FlyingAlone
Summary: The cracks begin to appear, showing Martha's true side.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, so this is my first FanFiction. This is an Identity FanFic mainly between John and Martha. So within this story I am going to entail Martha's hidden secrets, how she struggles to cope. The names show whose viewpoint the story is being told from. This FanFic is set during Episode six... Please enjoy (:**_

**Martha:**

She slowly bit down on her lip. Pausing for thought by standing in the middle of the street staring... this action was biding her time; time to process her scattered thoughts. Her mind was racing faster then usual. She was uncertain. Uncertain on, not really knowing how to respond towards what the situation she was currently finding herself in. John… John Bloom was sitting on her doorstep.

Martha began to question in her mind:_ '__What is he doing here? Why is he on my door step?__' _

Martha stood at the gate-entrance to her flat, wearing her big bulky sun glasses to cover her tired withdrawn beautiful hazel orbs; that had barely seen any sleep whatsoever the past few nights. Her eyes roamed over John's sculpted beautiful body. Luckily John was unable to see where exactly Martha's eyes were looking, because of the sun glasses. First her eyes caught a glimpse at his leather jacket that was jet black. His jacket made his shoulders seem strong and muscular. His tight white fitted shirt displayed his toned abdominal muscles in just the right way...His beautiful black hair that featured; hints of a majestic grey seeping through, that sort-of curled towards the ends of his hair. _Martha loved John's hair..._ Then just at that moment, the thought of his beautiful curled hair Martha slowly smiled, and an admiration-kind-of smile.

_'It is about time I said something to him'_ She thought finally she decided to speak...

"Hey...John," Martha softly whispered through her slightly parted lips. Now she had dropped her smile, trying not to let her emotions seep through. But if John could see Martha's eyes, he would of known how happy she was to have him there, sat on her doorstep. She placed her sun glasses on the top of her head, now making proper eye contact with John.

John looked carefully into Martha's widened eyes then corresponded rather hesitantly by saying

"Hey Martha," His profound Irish accent came through as he said her name. He did not smile. But he smirked, as he did that his deep blue salty eyes; began twinkling. Martha's expression was no longer hidden by the mask of her large sunglasses; her eyes were glowing. Her eyes never light up, not like this; only ever in his company. John was the ignition to the flame that lighted her senses. A shooting achy pain ran up Martha's arm, she knew the pain very well; this 'pain' made her body breakout in unwelcome shivers. The pain was her from her fresh cuts (on her arm)... The wounds on her arms began to chaff and rub against her sleeve. Just all a reminder of what she had done last night… _Ahh the night before vivid visions of Martha drinking, finding the sharp familiar feel of the sliver blade slipping into her skin; she watched the blood treacle out…_ She bit her lip to stop herself from breathing the word 'ouch' out. Martha had forgotten to bandage her wounds. She knew deep down that she could never speak to anyone about this; everything was painful enough, without involving someone like John…

**John:**

Martha's auburn hair burned intensively in the sunlight; '_her hair is so beautiful, I just wanted to run my fingers through...'_Reality hit John's daydream like thoughts as Martha began to unlock her flat door. Opening it, finally...So John could see what the inside of Martha's home.

' _All these little that are hidden away must be relieved within her home right? I want to know the real Martha.'_ John spoke to himself

The door opened, a little squeaky. John was dying to know more about this woman...Maybe the house would entail him to have an insight of what Martha was truly like? It was bare, consider by many to be 'minimalistic'. All-whitewashed ceilings and on the walls it was the same. The only colour breaking through the white was the kitchen titles, they themselves where dull in colour; a black. But John began to realise how nothing in her house gave her away, not even a clue what her life was like. Well her private life at that. John started at everything trying to analyze it all... Nothing, all he knew was that this house looked an exact replicated of his own. He knew instantly that Martha was suffering, suffering from the same issues he once had...

"You know, this place is a lot like mine," John stated slightly off-hand, while his eyes still gazed around the kitchen. He was off-hand due to his processing his thoughts within his mind.

"I would not know. I have never been you your place," Martha's answer was clipped and quick, but full of curiosity to where this conversation will lead.

"You are not missing much" John replied slowly.

Martha resumed with attempting to pour them both a glass of wine. John began to watch closely, his beautiful salty sea blue eyes gazing like a hawk as Martha's trembling hand poured them both a glass of wine. John's eyes met Martha's gaze, John could not bear to watch her hand tremble any longer diverting his eyes away from hers; he then gently placed his hand on her wrist. As John placed his hand on her wrist Martha's face grimaced through pain and she flinched. "Martha is everything okay? What is wrong?" John spoke through concern. John was deeply concerned to what was hurting Martha through the contact of him touching her arm. '_Why did she pull a face like that? Oh god, why is her arm hurting?'_ He found himself saying these words out loud without realizing, he did not want his now incoming thoughts to be true.

"Why is your arm hurting?" He spoke so quietly so Martha only just heard the whisper of his voice...Martha was in a state of shock.

John turned his attention away from Martha for a second to take the wine bottle from her hand and he poured the rest of the white alcoholic liquid into the glasses. Martha did not respond to his question. But instead she pulled the long sleeves of her jumper further down, getting some kind of security from it. She then looked at the floor, no longer remaining the eye contact with John. John was half tempted to role her sleeve up but persisted through speech.

"Martha, tell me now...Please?!" this time John's tone featured a hint of anger, and what he said was a command not a question.

Martha rolled her eyes towards John and she stepped further away from him. Then she took a sip from her wine glass.

"Nothing John... I am fine" Martha replied, as she took another sip from her wine glass her sleeve hitched up relieving several red raised cuts on her wrist. His thoughts where true!

'_Oh poor Martha…Please will you talk to me? Tell me what is going on?'_ John thought to himself.

"You are depressed?" John stated rather bluntly without much thought, but his tone was soft, caring even. He did not want to offend Martha in any way with what he had said, but he knew it to be true already. His hand fell back to her wrist and he gently peeled back her sleeve to see the damage that she had done...

"Oh…Martha…" John whispered in shock, he then began to wonder where else she had harmed herself.

Suddenly Martha violently flicked her hand away from his grasp, and then angrily responded to what he had said a few moments earlier.

Martha looked down at her arm, saddened. "Shut up... Shut up!" she stated softly with an aggressive tone, laced with sadness. Her tone implied to John her obvious feelings of being ashamed of admitting reality. _This reminded John of himself. _

**Martha:**

_'__Why does he care so much and so suddenly? No one should care, especially not... him!' _The words in her mind negatively spoke, she rolled her sleeve down.

"So I know why you are leaving the Identity Unit John, I am not silly. So who is she then? There is know harm in telling me know is there? Do you love her?" Martha spoke her mind, hoping John would answer all her questions, and distract John from what he just questioned her on.

John's face looked appalled by everything Martha had just said to him, his face was passive giving nothing away of his inner thoughts. Martha could tell her _'change the topic '_ tactic did not wash with John.

That atmosphere in the kitchen had seemed to have gone from warm to icily cold and dramatically tense, between the both of them. John decided to break the few minutes silence with four words.

"I need to go," John whispered carefully not entirely sure that he wanted to even leave.

Martha disliked John saying this as she sensed that in more ways then one he was going to leave, she did not want him to leave. _'I do not want you to go, Stay!'_She began to say in her mind. She knew that this was being selfish but she wanted to tell John, what her inner thoughts were. She found the courage to say ...Well imply her feelings towards him. Martha stepped a little further away (trying to turn on the professional mode).

"If you love somebody... If you love somebody, you let them be themselves. You let them do the thing that they enjoy, the thing they are really good at. If you cannot or you will not, then something... Something's fucked!" Martha spoke hesitantly and very confidently; both very contradicting emotions but that is what Martha had just done. She had even stared John in his eyes when speaking. Then finally she added "It is never going to work any way..." She knew exactly what she was trying to imply to John. But she was figuring well… Hoping John would work out what she was saying to him.

John remained quiet processing what exactly Martha has said. His jaw began to tense, he stepped further away from Martha; it was clear he was angry. "Thanks," John's tone was aggressive towards Martha.

Martha recoiled in fear, she was uncertain on how to respond towards John's aggressive nature, which was seeping through. So she simply decided to respond by showing some of her inner emotions, that she kept locked away from the real world; her hand lead up to John's cheek stroking her thumb back and forth in circles. Slowly Martha had the courage to speak: "Please do not leave... I do not care about who she is... Just do not go" Martha began to show John her real vulnerable side after saying this.

**John:**

John reacted by standing in slight shock, he himself had never seen Martha this vulnerable and child like. "Martha…?" John mumbled unsure on what was going on. John's hand slowly moved from his side and met hers, his thumb dragged slowly over Martha's knuckles. Martha let out a slight gasp, and then her hand flinched away, her vulnerability faded.

"Sorry I am a little shaken by the thought of you leaving err… the Identity Unit" Martha muttered in response.

John did not know what else he could really say towards Martha, so decided it was time he left.

"Martha I better go now... I really need to leave..."

Martha's face immediately dropped, filling with sadness and hurt, she then smiled to mask it. "Goodbye John ..."

_**Thanks for reading :* Please review, would mean the world to me. **_

_**Disclaimer- All characters owned by ITV…**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, this is my second chapter of this hope it is okay? Let me know please (: **

_**Chapter two: BROKEN IN MORE WAYS THEN ONE...**_

The following morning, Martha woke up on her cream sofa; she was stretched out, her long legs reaching the end of the sofa. The encounter with John had surfaced all her issues once again, reminding her of her loneliness, how no one truly cared for her and her...Her problem. Martha had decided to use alcohol to blot out her memories... She had consumed far too much alcohol; a whole bottle of vodka was sat on the table side, the label of the bottle had '_Smirnoff' _written on it. Martha rolled her eyes in disgust-of-herself, her head was pounding; she needed coffee desperately. Martha got up and paused looking in the glass mirror that was hung above the fire place.

"Look at the state I am in! I look awful," Martha spoke out loud, but no one was there but herself to hear. The reflection in the mirror was a drawn-pasty pale face, dark circles under her eyes that looked bruised. Her hair was wild; all over the place, it was evident it needed taming with a comb. Martha's mascara was in black thick streams on her elegant cheekbones; tears had fallen from her hazel orbs last night, this had caused the mascara to bleed onto the surface of her skin. She lifted her hand to try and remove the dark black lines featured on her face, this did not work and she decided to enter her dark gloomy kitchen to make coffee.

Martha arrived to work earlier then usual, the time on Martha's watch read _'6:10'._ Martha yawned she had slept rough as it was, she really did not want to be sat at her desk at this godly hour; but she could no longer take being wondering around her flat. Martha approached her desk, slumped when taking a seat; and then she pulled out a few files from her desk draw. Martha held a cup of coffee in her hand; it was placed in her favourite mug. She slowly sipped from the cup and she read through a file. Thoughts flooded into Martha's mind as she read the words written within the report. Martha could not bear reading it any longer: her heart rate began to increase, her head fell in her hands and she dropped the coffee mug onto the floor. The coffee mug shattered into thousands of tiny fragments on the hard black floor, the hot black liquid pooled over the floor. Her tears began to spill upon her cheeks. She succumb the need to sink onto the floor... The tears kept falling; hard and heavy.

Martha was falling apart; the cracks were beginning to show, she could not hide it for much longer. Martha looked upon the fractured coffee mug; she screamed and curled up into a ball. A soothing hand placed onto her back. Martha's back became rigid and not entirely sure who was making contact; touching her back...Her head flicked back, a warm smile greeted her and the words.

"Martha, oh Jesus what is wrong?" Tessa found herself stumbling for words, finding her boss in such a horrendous state. Martha did not respond to Tessa, she decided to try and stand, retaking her seat at the desk. Her hands lifted to wipe away her tears and the lack smudges lying on her cheeks.

Martha finally had the courage to speak "I am sorry, everything has just gotten to me. I am really tired! " She hesitantly whispered. Martha was lying clearly; she was not fine. Tessa's eyes rolled at Martha's response, it was clear towards Tessa that Martha did not really want to talk about what was troubling her. Tessa decided to change the subject, so there was no awkward atmosphere between them.

"I am going to clear this mess up Martha; you relax for a while, perhaps sleep on that couch?" Tessa spoke, pointing to the black leather three-seater sofa that in habited in Martha's office. Martha nodded in agreeing with what Tessa had just said and moved over to the sofa, laying down to rest; shutting her eyes tight. Tessa decided to place a coat over Martha, to keep her warm.

Martha awoke when the clock was approaching near 9 o'clock; everyone in the Identity unit had been keeping themselves busy with paper work for the last half an hour. Martha's eyes began to scan around her office. The office blinds had been drawn, Martha presumed it was so no one could see into her office; she herself had not drawn them. _'Must have been Tess...' she_ thought. Martha stretched and sat up; her mind wondered if John was in work. She stood up moving to the door, the whole room seemed to have an icy atmosphere three pairs of eyes met Martha's icily cold gaze.

"Is John here?" Martha stated loudly, allowing the whole room to fill with her voice.

Anthony decided he would be the one to answer Martha's question" No John is not here yet, isn't a little earlier for him to be in any way?" Anthony usual snide was in place in him replying to Martha.

"Shut it DS Anthony Wareing! There is no need to talk about one of your colleagues in that manner; he is a valuable asset to the team that is what John..."

_**Short one for chapter two, hope you all enjoy**____**... R&R**_


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